


Truth or Drink

by fckyeahgallavich



Series: Aevitas [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Mickey, Boyfriends, Comforting Mickey, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Drinking Games, F/M, Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich Friendship, Insecure Mickey, Lip Gallagher Being an Asshole, M/M, Questions, Sad Mickey, Truth or Dare, Truth or Drink, What else is new?, sexual innuendo, teasing Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 21:51:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12219639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: It's Gallagher game night! The first of a tradition--or so they hope. Mickey was unwilling to start off with, so how will he feel by the end of the night when Lip is the one asking the questions?Inspired by an Anon prompt on my Tumblr; Asking for a game of Truth or Drink for Ian and Mickey!





	Truth or Drink

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt by an Anon from my Tumblr! They asked me to replicate a Truth or Drink game from YouTube and I somehow managed to turn it into a soap opera-y mess. Hope y'all like it anyway!  
> This story takes place in the same universe as a series that will kick off on Friday 10/6. Mickey has returned from Mexico and is hiding out in the Gallagher house and is blonde now. All will make sense in due time...  
> Enjoy! <3

“Do we really have to do this?” Mickey bitched as he took a sip from his beer. Fiona was finally starting to chill out about Mickey mooching off the non-essentials, which Mickey took as a sign that he was family. About goddamned time.

“Why, scared?” Lip teased. Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Of what?” Mickey demanded grumpily and grabbed the shot glass in front of him, holding it out for Fiona who was filling everyone's glasses in preparation.

“That we're going to ask you something incriminating and you're going to take a shot but it's going to admit guilt!” Fiona teased with her giant goofy smile. She finished pouring everyone's shots, everyone except Lip who stuck with coffee even at 11 at night. Mickey got that he was in recovery... but why coffee? Why not water or fuckin Kool-Aid?

“They're open ended questions. What could be asked that'll be incriminating?” Mickey argued.

“Oh, uh, maybe like how much ass did you get from that fuckin' fairy hair while you were away?” Lip teased. Mickey flipped him off. “Oh, only one? And I heard it on good authority that blondes had more fun... That's disappointing for you, man.” Mickey couldn't help but smirk at that one. Ian finally came to Mickey's rescue and told Lip to save it. Ian draped his arm across the back of Mickey's chair and lounged back, sipping at a glass of water. He was allowed one shot with his meds and after that if he needed to drink for the game, he'd just pour some water in the glass or some shit. No use getting fucked up for a game.

“Alright, everyone know the rules?” V asked turning to make eye contact with everyone around the table. Everyone nodded except Fiona's new boyfriend Andrew.

“Sorry, I've never even heard of this... How does this work?” He asked sheepishly. Andrew was an alright guy, Mickey guessed. Definitely not Southside but he figured maybe that was the appeal since Fiona tended to appreciate rich yuppies as opposed to guys from their neck of the woods.

“I'm not dating anyone at the moment so I'm going to ask one person from each couple a question and you have to either answer honestly or take a shot.” Lip explained. Andrew nodded. Kev and V exchanged silly grins. Why were they so excited about this? Mickey just didn't see the point, but Ian made the argument just last week that if he wanted to be included in the Gallagher family that included family activities and this was a new event they were trying to get going just to bring the family together every now and again now that everyone was going their separate ways.

“Okay, let's keep the first one easy and... Ian. What is one thing you'd change about Mickey if you could?” Lip fired. Ian blanched. Mickey's brows rose. Of _course_ shithead would start with them. He looked at Ian expectantly. This oughta be good.

“Umm...” Ian's lip twitched as he considered, examining Mickey. Mickey's heartbeat surprisingly surged as he wondered what he could be thinking so fucking hard about. He could say nothing, right? Or... were there a lot of things and he just didn't know which one in particular he wanted to divulge?

“Better choose wisely little bro, it looks like you're about to get your ass handed to you!” Fiona muttered. Ian ignored her and kept examining him.

“That's not the way Mickey likes it from what I've heard, though, eh?” Kev joked back. Mickey flipped him off, suddenly remembering how he announced to the entire neighborhood that he was a proud and eager bottom when he came out, but smiled despite himself.

“I would change how Mickey views himself...” Mickey's heart stopped. _What?_ Ian's face turned gravely serious. “I know you don't believe it but you are a good person and you do deserve a lot more than you get. I'm not going to get all mushy but... I definitely wish you would stop selling yourself short.” Mickey's brows furrowed ever so slightly and his heart swelled. He hated himself for so fucking long, even after he had just started to feel comfortable in his own skin as a gay man he still had this underlying feeling of self-hatred clouding his psyche. How the _fuck_ did Ian see that?

“Fuck, Ian. This is supposed to be funny! You were supposed to say you wish he put more effort in the sack or some shit, not that sappy bullshit!” Kev whined. Mickey smirked.

“What about me makes you think I'd _ever_ let that be a complaint, Ball?” Everyone laughed, the tension in Mickey's chest loosening as he relaxed a little bit. Mickey grabbed Ian's hand under the table and rubbed his thumb over Ian's knuckles. _Fuck._ That _had_ been deep as shit... He probably would have said he wished Ian would quit bugging him about going out when he knew he couldn't, or to stop worrying so fucking much about his appearance (Ian looked _more_ than fine dammit! And Mickey worked hard to make sure he never questioned it thank you very much).

“Alright, alright. V, one thing you'd change about Kev.” Lip laughed. V turned to Kev and stared him up similar to how Ian had examined Mickey.

“Hair... I'd have him grow it back out...”

“Fuck, this again, V?!” Kev cried. She laughed.

“It was all I could think of! But yeah.” She got really serious in that way she does, brow arching in exaggerated irritation. Kev rolled his eyes but they shared a kiss in good humor.

“Andrew...” Lip prompted.

“No way! We've only been going out for a month, I don't even know enough about her to notice anything like that, if there would be anything anyway!” Andrew argued. Fiona arched one brow. “Why, there something you want to change about me?” Her eyes widened in exaggerated innocence and she shrugged.

“Alright, Fi go for it.” Lip snorted, taking sip of coffee.

“I mean... You _could_ be a little more assertive... it's okay to just _tell_ me what you want for once.” Fiona replied gently.

“What? We've only been going out a month how could you already notice something like that?” Her eyes widened in amusement.

“Just last night I asked you if you wanted to play and you asked me if that was _okay!_ Of _course_ it's okay! I fucking invited you!” She laughed. Blood rushed to Andrew's cheeks as he absorbed the criticism. _Harsh_ Mickey thought. Not her criticism but the fact that she had it at all. He took another sip of his beer, still not letting go of Ian's hand.

“Alright... What was on your mind the last time you had sex?” Lip looked at Ian and Mickey both. Was Mickey the only one answering or was Ian answering too? And what _had_ been on his mind? When he and Ian were together, the world seemed to stop, his mind focused on the sensations, he relished in the feeling of being free. When he surrendered all control to Ian he felt more liberated than being released from Juvie, than escaping from the feds and crossing the border without being caught, more than coming out of the closet. Ian looked at Mickey expectantly.

“Sorry to disappoint, but unlike you I don't need to picture someone else to get off.” Mickey replied drily to Lip. This game was stupid. What did _other_ people think about during sex? Their to do list? How can you get off when your mind isn't completely focused on what you're doing? Ian smirked as the table erupted into laughter. Lip flipped him off, and Mickey smirked because he'd clearly struck a nerve. Had Lip suffered some issues recently? Probably from drinking like a fish.

"So you don't think about anything while we're banging?" Ian asked. Mickey's brow furrowed.

"Umm... us  _fucking._ That's what I'm thinking about while we're fucking." Everyone laughed again and Ian shrugged, seeming pleased that Mickey was so focused on them.

“Kev,” Lip snapped out a little too harshly. Mickey snickered from getting such a rise out of him. Ian's hand left his and rested on his upper thigh. Maybe this game  _would_ have its advantages... Not as though they couldn't just bang, but hey if this was a new kind of foreplay...

“I don't need to think of anything else either!” Kev replied smoothly.

“Uh-uh,” V replied immediately. “That's only going to work once and at least when _he_ said it, I can believe him. What is it?” Kev looked temptingly at the shot glass. “ _What?! What could it be that you're considering a shot right now?”_ Kev's mouth twisted in concern.

“Umm... I may or may not have been thinking about how to get that cleaning service started again without Lana...” V sat back in her chair. Mickey hadn't been caught up to date about Svetlana and Yegveny other than Svetlana used Kev and V to get the bar and now that she had the bar, Kev and V refused to talk to her or about her. He laughed into his beer and took a big pull as they bickered.

“What the fuck made you think about that?” V demanded.

“Boobs.” Kev replied simply and everyone laughed. V wrapped her arms around Kev's neck and kissed him on the cheek, laughing hard.

“Andrew,” Lip continued.

Andrew flushed. He didn't want to answer this one _either?_ Jesus Christ how many questions was this guy going to dodge?

“Umm... I was just thinking about how much you look like Natalie Portman... And then I couldn't stop thinking about Natalie Portman from _Black Swan_...” Andrew finally responded. Fiona laughed long and hard. Mickey's brows rose. What a fucking schmuck! Fiona pulled him in for a kiss.

“You coulda picked worse, I guess.” She laughed. He exhaled a deep breath feeling like he got away with something. But Mickey felt confident that they would be over by the end of the month. This guy was _not_ Fiona's type, but who was Mickey to judge, he supposed...

“Ian, what's your favorite position?” Lip smirked. This smug fucker was having fun.

“God...” Ian looked at Mickey, considering. Mickey didn't have a favorite per se, it changed day to day so this was going to be interesting.

“Umm basically anything against some sorta surface...” Fiona mumbled into her beer. Everyone laughed, loud and hard. Mickey tried hard not to smile, but knew he was losing the battle. Ian looked tempted to flip her off, but he looked as though he wasn't even sure if that joke was in bad taste or a shot to him or rather a testament to their incredible sex life. Mickey thought it was just the truth.

“Nice talk coming from someone who doesn't _even_ need a surface to get off on!” Ian jeered back finally. Fiona flipped him off playfully, a proud grin on her face. Andrew looked concerned at who this girl was. If only he knew... Fiona was a little famous around these parts for being easy back in the day.

“Seriously though, I don't know...” Ian considered. “Never thought I'd like missionary but—”

“A Milkovich? Satisfied with missionary sex? I don't believe it for a fucking minute,” Lip interrupted, sticking a cigarette in his mouth. _Ugh_ was this asshole really talking about how he and his sister used to fuck?

“You'd be shocked what you can do with it when you get creative.” Ian replied smoothly. Mickey couldn't even argue, they found themselves in some interesting positions that started from missionary and ended up somewhere else. Positions that probably had names but fuck if they knew them or cared to. If it felt good, it was happening. Mickey didn't really have a favorite position. Ian's dick buried inside him... _That_ was his favorite. No particulars though if he were in the mood for anything in particular he'd be the first one to let it be known.

“Seriously, that's your answer?” Kev criticized.

“Hey, just because you're limited in missionary doesn't mean we are!” Ian shot back taking a sip of water. Mickey's cheeks flared. He willed them not to, but he still wasn't comfortable talking about his sex life so openly with.. really anyone.

“Oh. My. God.” V interjected through the laughter. “Ian Gallagher managed to make _the_ Mickey Milkovich blush!” Mickey glared at her as the whole table erupted into laughter, prompting even more blood to rush to his cheeks. He flipped her off and sat back with as much dignity as he could muster.

“I'm dying to know Mickey's favorite!” Fiona muttered.

“Why'd you be dying to know that? I'm fucking your brother!” Mickey exclaimed in feigned disgust.

“Hey, we're all adults here!” She defended, lighting a cigarette for herself. Lip motioned to Mickey.

“Hey, he already answered!” Mickey argued.

“Everyone will answer this question, then.” Lip mediated. Mickey rolled his eyes. Of course they would.

“I don't know any fucking names or whatever the fuck but I ride him into the mattress pretty fuckin' good.” Everyone stared in shock except Lip who had already caught them that way once before. Kev presented Mickey with a fist and Mickey grazed knuckles with him, not knowing exactly why they were fist bumping at the moment... Fiona nodded sagely.

“Go ahead and put that as my answer too.” She smirked at him through the cigarette and blew out a stream of smoke.

Andrew smiled like a schoolboy who stumbled upon Playboy for the first time.

“Yeah...” Andrew sighed.

“ _Oh_ kay... looks like we know Andrew's vote!” V teased.

“How do you do that, man?” Kev asked, leaning into Mickey's ear.

“Da fuck do you mean _how_? _”_ Mickey asked incredulously. “Your wife doesn't ride you?” Everyone seemed to hold their breath because... well, they all knew she did frequently.

“Don't be ridiculous. Course she does!” Kev insisted. Mickey's brows rose as if saying _well, there ya go dumbass._ “But like... Doesn't that hurt your junk?” Mickey couldn't help but punch out a laugh at that one. Ian collapsed onto the table in laughter. Lip looked very displeased at the mental image this was conjuring.

“Kev, what's your favorite position?” Lip interjected before Mickey could answer. Not that Mickey was _going_ to answer, but clearly Lip wanted to get the show on the road.

“Doggy style, man! That's the _best_ way!” Kev sighed. V's brows rose. “Oh, you like it a different way?”

“I like it _all_ ways!” V defended with a laugh. “But I gotta go with my fellow cowgirl and boy here and say _that_ is the best!” Kev's brows rose with a hopeful gleam in his eye.

“Gonna remind me why that's the best?” He asked with a toothy grin. She slapped his chest playfully and rolled her eyes.

“Okay, okay. I think everyone answered... Let's move on to some platonic questions... Jesus.” Lip glanced at Mickey showing his true reason for the disgust. Mickey rolled his eyes. He really didn't give a fuck at this point though he had to admit this was getting fun.

They played several more rounds and somehow ended up reversing the order around the table to Mickey answering last. The questions was “where do you see us in ten years?” The room settled to grave silence. Mickey didn't know where the _fuck_ he would be in ten years. And Lip fucking knew that. Mickey glared at Lip as the smartass tried to gaze innocently at him as though he hadn't lined up this question to land on him on purpose.

Mickey had wracked his brain as Andrew and V had answered the question... But he couldn't come up with anything that wasn't fucking depressing or wouldn't remind Andrew of who Mickey Milkovich was.

Mickey was supposed to be in prison another six years at this point _if_ he were still able to low ball it and _if_ he had never escaped. Of course now if he got caught, there was _no way_ he would be able to low ball it. He'd be charged to the max for escape and be denied parole until maybe three years before his sentence would be up. And that was being hopeful. _Or_ Terry was due out any time now... He may wind up dead. Or Ian could get tired of him and kick him to the curb leaving him alone and depressed _again_. Or there was always the chance that he'd finally chance going out and would get recognized and killed before he could even get arrested. There were too many variables, too many unknowns. Mickey avoided thinking of the what-ifs at all costs, and _fuck_ Lip for making him think of all of this shit after they'd just had such a nice evening. Their rivalry would never end and that probably stabbed him in the chest more than the realization that he had no idea what his future looked like.

Mickey glared at Lip and took the shot.

He maintained eye contact with a smug Lip as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed, radiating his blistering anger.

The room was quiet.

“Seriously, Lip? You planned that didn't you?” Ian practically growled.

“Sometimes it's necessary to bring people back to reality, don't you think?” Lip defended. "Look at all of you! Acting like he's just part of the family! As though there isn't-"

“ _God_ Lip! We were having a nice time!” Fiona sighed, head dropping to her waiting hand. Kev and V just stared at Mickey with pity. He didn't need their pity. He stood from the table, silencing the room again, and grabbed Lip's pack of cigarettes. They maintained eye contact as he took two from the pack, threw it back at Lip who just caught it, still watching him and clutching the package to his chest. Mickey tucked one cigarette behind his ear and put the other one in his mouth, pulling a lighter from his front pocket and lighting it, finally breaking the staring contest to watch the end catch. He tucked the lighter back in his front pocket and released his first breath of smoke.

He stared at Lip another second before turning his gaze on Ian, who was looking up at him with worry and more pity. He squeezed Ian's shoulder and stalked out of the house, choosing to sit on the back porch steps rather than punch the lights out of that smug fucker. He couldn't give him a rebuttal to try the guilt trip method because Andrew didn't know his situation and they couldn't trust him to keep it secret. As he closed the door behind him he could hear Fiona and V calling after him, which shocked him so much he almost stopped, and Ian's voice raising at his brother.

“You shithead, you fucking knew he had no answer to that! Or at least not anything fun! FUCK!” He heard a chair scrape back but he just settled onto the bottom step, out of range of the porch light so he could sit in darkness.

“You guys need to face fucking reality! This isn't some sleepover and things are _never_ going to return to normal!” Lip shouted back.

“You're supposed to keep your fucking mouth shut about that shit.” Ian returned.

“You think a stupid fight is going to _actually_ tell me what I can and can not say?” Lip scoffed.

“Maybe you need another fight to put it in perspective!” From there it was pure chaos. Fiona shouting at them to stop it, Kev probably yanking Ian back, Lip probably working his way around the table, V trying to get in the middle. Mickey knew he should probably go back in there, but at the moment he didn't fucking care. He flicked the ashes off the end of the cigarette and sat in silence, stewing, but a little smug himself as he remembered how he'd handed Lip his ass only two weeks after he got here.

10 years... At this point in his life he doesn't know where he'll be in the next day. Before the arrest, he would have known the answer easy. He and Ian would have their own place. Shared custody with Svet (more for Ian's benefit than his own). They'd either be married or maybe talking about it. Mickey had been so hurt when Ian threw the idea of it in his face the day he'd broken up with him. Because even though it wasn't a serious thought or something he considered often, living together and the idea of taking care of Ian for 40+ years... Yeah, gets a guy thinking about shit like marriage. But now? Fuck no. His future was over. He wouldn't ever really be able to _live._ Just exist. He was waiting for the day Ian finally wisened up and realized that his life would be a boring one with Mickey... uneventful. He'd stick around as long as Ian still wanted him. Because as painful as it'd be to be broken up with again, he was willing to take every single moment with Ian just to say he had it. He was finishing up the first cigarette when the door finally opened. He felt his shoulders tense and he refused to turn around.

Familiar boots landed right beside his and he scoot over for Ian to sit beside him.

“I shoulda fuckin' known what he was playing with that last one.” Ian sighed. Mickey didn't say anything, just pulled the lighter out of his pocket and lit the second cigarette. Ian leaned into him, almost like a cat nudging your hand when it wants to be pet. Mickey finally looked at him. “I'm sorry. This was supposed to be fun.”

“It was.” Mickey allowed. Ian sighed again and reached out for Mickey's cigarette. He passed it along. “He has a point he wants to make, and he made it.” Mickey announced. Ian's brow furrowed.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Ian asked warily. Mickey scratched the back of his neck in agitation.

“My life is over, man.” He turned to face him again. Ian's eyes looked wary. Mickey turned to face away from him. “We're not going to be able to really do anything with our lives together. Because my life—?” He shrugged. “I'm going to be lucky to be able to work anywhere around here by the time I'm 30. By then I'll probably look different enough that no one will recognize me. I'll need to see about getting a legit license, say I lost the old one or some shit, but of course there's always the chance my social will be found out...” He shook his head as the list of restrictions piled on. “Marriage?” He scoffed. “Not in this city. We'd have to go three states away and even then _still_ pray no one recognizes me. _Kids?_ ” He snagged the cigarette back from Ian and took a long drag. “Why would we drag them into this shit? Their lives would never be normal. And going out on dates and doing all of that normal shit you're probably used to, the shit you wanted from me before?” Mickey finally raised his eyes to Ian's. They were wet, but Ian was trying to hold it together. He suddenly realized how it must sound. “I wish I had done it then because I sure as shit can't go to Sizzlers with you now.” He passed the cigarette back. Ian took it but didn't put it to his lips. They looked away from each other then. Ian stared straight ahead.

“Doesn't have to be Sizzlers...” Ian murmured. Mickey laughed. It was a genuine laugh, the tension easing from his shoulders and he suddenly remembered what it was about this kid that had him so enamored from the first moment. When his laughter died out he still had the hint of a smile on his face.

“I'm not breaking this off so you can calm down.” Ian sagged, relief palpable. “I'm here until you're done with me.” Mickey tried to say it matter-of-fact... but he didn't think he managed. Ian nudged Mickey's side with his shoulder and knee.

“Well... I had a guy a few years back that he'd stick around for 30-40... You see, I have this disease...” Mickey looked up dramatically, feigning surprise. “Yeah... And this guy swore he'd stick by me at _least_ that long... And I really loved him... It's funny, but you remind me of him.” Mickey smirked a little as he remembered that conversation outside of the clinic.

Ian was so convinced Mickey would leave but Mickey finally got him to stop raving and look at him so he could get it through his thick fucking skull that he wasn't going anywhere. Mickey had told him that day that if he was dealing with this disorder for 30-40 years, then he'd just have to stick around as long.

“You're blonder than he was...” Mickey shoved Ian's shoulder and they both laughed as Ian righted himself, and took a drag. “But uh... I figure if you can handle my crazy then I can work around all of this.” They both got serious as they took each other in. Mickey broke the connection first and reached for the cigarette which Ian handed over easily.

“I already said, I'm here as long as you want me here. Not like I got anywhere else to go that's going to make my life easier.” Ian deflated. They both knew that wasn't completely true. Chicago was about as dangerous as could be for Mickey. He wanted to talk to Ian about moving away but they were just rediscovering themselves, making their routine and getting back in the swing of things. Ian put his hand on Mickey's knee, prompting Mickey to look back at him.

“I love you, Mick.” Ian murmured. Mickey bit his lip and just stared at this man. His heart swelled with the love he felt for him... but damn him if it didn't still make him uncomfortable to say shit like that. He took a deep breath and held it.

“I love you too.” He finally replied. The corner of Ian's mouth tilted up in a half smile as he leaned down and captured Mickey's lips with his own. It was a sweet kiss. Not all-consuming or libido kicking like most of their kisses were. This was simple, common, domestic... It meant everything. He cupped Ian's cheek with his hand and kissed him a little deeper.

The door opened above them and Mickey drew back, a little too quick. They both turned to look at who stepped through the door and noticed Fiona smiling sweetly.

“Sorry to burst the moment, guys. Just wanted to make sure you didn't take off on another Mexican romp.” She was trying to sound light, but Mickey knew better. They were starting to bond and she was equally worried that Mickey was upset and had run off and that Ian would just chase after him with no regard for his own security. He finished off the cigarette and threw it to the stone pathway beneath him.

“Nah. Just didn't want to bust any Gallagher lip tonight.” Mickey replied cooly. “He in there?”

“No. We sent him away to cool off.” She crossed her arms as though she were cold but it was moderate temperature out. “I'm sorry, Mickey... This was supposed to be fun and you didn't want to play as it was...” Mickey took the stairs two at a time and reached her by the end of her sentence. He put his hand on her shoulder and shrugged at her. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it, lending her support. This shocked him, but not too much. Lately they were on the same page a lot. Maybe it was because of how much he helped out, or because he'd been living with the Gallaghers for four months with no hiccups and she was starting to realize he wasn't going to bring gangbangers or meth heads into their house to fuck up their flow.

“We're going to try again next week, but I'll understand if you don't want to join...” He arched a brow.

“Yeah... I'll think about it.” He replied simply, biting on the snarky response he actually wanted to say. But this wasn't her fault and his sass wasn't going to do anything but piss off another Gallagher, or hurt one.

He stepped into the house to find Kev and V already gone though Andrew sat at the table. Lip's cigarettes lay on the table. He picked up the pack and checked its contents... Almost full. _Mine now,_ Mickey thought. Asshole owed him after that bullshit. Andrew looked up at him and gave an awkward smile.

“Have a good night, man. And good luck with that one.” Andrew threw out, trying to sound casual. Mickey furrowed his brow at him, a look that said _Who the fuck are you to wish me luck with this family? You've been here twenty minutes compared to me._

He took the pack of cigarettes and hopped up to their bedroom where he undressed and lay in bed waiting for Ian.

He was already dozing off a bit when Ian came into their room, sliding the barrier closed behind him. He undressed quickly and lay beside him. They gazed at each other similar to when Mickey had returned to the Gallagher house after abandoning Ian for a few days. Ian had understood and was just glad Mickey came back, even if it was three days late. And now they were on equal footing. They could go back and forth for hours about what one had done to the other, and what they had done to make everything up to each other. Now, they were even. They were a team. They had to be or everyone was going down with them.

"Gonna play next week?" Ian asked hesitantly. Mickey shrugged.

"We'll see, I guess." He replied much more softly than he realized he was capable of at the moment.

"Maybe you should moderate and we play siblings? Then you can get Lip back somehow." Ian suggested deviously. Mickey smirked at the idea.

"Maybe..." He replied, throwing an arm around Ian's waist, pulling him closer. They lay in silence for a long time.

"Your life isn't over... We'll figure everything out." Ian promised. Mickey opened his eyes too look into Ian's. "It's not going to be exactly what we want... But we'll make our own version. When have we ever had the  _exact_ same things other people have?" Ian insisted. Mickey just shook his head and closed his eyes, not really wanting to talk about this shit right now. Ian sighed and kissed Mickey's head, running a hand through his hair. "Okay... I love you." Ian whispered. Mickey grunted grumpily which amused Ian.

Mickey didn't want to deal with this shit right now. He just wanted to stay in Ian's arms and bask in the simplicity of the  _one_ thing normal about his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to tip your fanfic writer! :)  
> We accept Kudos and constructive comments! <3


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